


The Quest

by rinthegreat



Category: Free!
Genre: Based on bricker's amazing fanart, Day 7, Fantasy AU, M/M, Prince! Rin, Thief! Makoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9263747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: “Pray tell,” Rin asks, sarcasm dripping in every word, “why I am being requested to complete a quest.”MakoRin Week 2017: Fantasy AU





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bricker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bricker/gifts).



> I wrote this all in one fevered day and now it's over an hour past my bedtime I'm so tired...Maybe I'll actually edit it later but it was REALLY IMPORTANT for some reason that I post it today.
> 
> This is based on [Bricker's amazing fanart](http://brickerbeetle.tumblr.com/post/155521307447/for-the-last-day-of-makorin-week-i-feel-so-bad)

            “A quest.”  Rin deadpans, arms crossed as he looks up the steps to his father sitting on the throne.

            The older man nods, crown not even shifting as he confirms his order.  “A quest.”  Next to him, Rin’s mother sits watching the encounter impassively.  It’s her he and his younger sister take after in looks, though Rin’s jaw is shaped exactly as his father and his eyes have the same shape if not the same color.  The likeness had appeared around puberty, silencing the rumors from before that they were someone else’s children.

            “Pray tell,” Rin asks, sarcasm dripping in every word, “why I am being requested to complete a quest.”

            “A man is not a man until he has taken his first kill or put some miles under his belt.  We are not at war, so it is time for you to travel.”  The king says it with an air of finality, but Rin’s never been one to let anyone have the last word.  Even his father.

            He straightens his shoulders, standing tall, even though it does nothing to make up for the difference in height.  “And if I refuse?”

            “Then I’m sure the crown would fit well on Gou’s head.”

            He’s waved away this time, and with a huff the prince leaves the chamber.

* * *

 

            “A quest,” Sousuke deadpans, mirroring the prince’s own disbelief from earlier.  They’re in his room, packing a bag with a few changes of clothes he’ll need for the journey.

            Rin rocks back, looking at the fabric he’s laid out on his bed, debating if all of them are too fancy to wear while traveling.  “Yes.”

            “Then I’m coming with you.”  There’s a stubborn line to his friend’s jaw, a set to his shoulders that reads _you’re not going if I’m not going_.

            “I would take you with me.”  He watches Sousuke’s shoulders sag in relief.  “But I can’t.”

            His friend’s eyes snap to his own, frustrated, angry.  “Why not?  Rin you need protection.  Don’t be stupid out of some noble –“

            “Father’s orders.”  That shuts him up.  “‘A man’s quest is not to be completed by his guards.’  I’m to go alone.”

            Even Sousuke can’t go against the king.  Overprotective, he helps Rin pack and embraces him the next morning at dawn.  “You’re strong,” he murmurs in Rin’s ear.  “Come back safe.”

* * *

 

            He stops at a small town after riding the whole day, looking for the nearest tavern.  In all the stories told to children at bedtime, the hero finds information there.  There’s a partially covered board on the outside, he notices as he dismounts, with hanging scrolls advertising rewards.  There’s a dragon stealing from some lords the next kingdom over and children have been disappearing from a town near the forest.  Merchants advertising help needed to transport their goods across the land or sea.  And the list goes on.

            Rin looks over them all, wanting a simple one that will do the deed and get him home as quickly as possible, when a scroll catches his eye.  It’s not as decorated as some of the others, the reward meager compared to handling the dragon.  And it’s old, weathered by sun and rain.  When he takes it off the board, there’s a clear line around where it was; a sign that it’s been there for far longer than the others.

            What catches his eye about it isn’t simplicity or proximity, but the name.  _Iwatobi_.  It’s a name he’s heard in stories, tales told in the rare times when his father put him to bed as a child.

            Iwatobi doesn’t exist.  It’s a myth, and not even a very well-known one at that.  Yet here it is, advertised on a stained scroll outside a tavern in some small town that doesn’t even have a name at its entrance.

            Rin pockets it before taking his horse to the stable.  The boy takes one look at him, eyes wide in fear and recognition, but he says nothing aside from an assurance that his horse will be fed and well cared for while he rests. 

            When Rin enters the tavern it’s nothing like he expects.  It’s not full of rowdy mercenaries, arm wrestling over a beer.  There are no busty women being felt up by thieves and pirates as they try in vain to serve.  It’s quieter than that, though not empty.  The tables are well cleaned, separated from each other, and people sit alone or in private groups not interfering with one another.  He sees one man cleaning glasses behind the bar, roughly the same height as him, with a similar build, though his hair is jet black to Rin’s bright red.  There are no other nobles here; everyone he sees is wearing more worn clothing than his, some even covered in dirt.

            It doesn’t phase him.

            “A drink and your best meal,” he announces sitting down at the bar.  The man behind it – the only one he can see – doesn’t even look up from his cleaning.

            “That will be a gold piece.”

            Rin, who’s never had to pay for anything in his life, lets his jaw drop.  Who does this man think he is?  Who does he think _Rin_ is?

            He searches in his pockets anyway, pink with anger, when he hears a chuckle behind him.  “I’ve got it Haru,” a voice like honey sounds, and Rin sees a gold piece out of the corner of his eye when the man behind him slides it across the counter.

            The bartender takes it, still not looking up, but the prince doesn’t care.  He stands up off the stool and turns, arms crossed over his chest to see who was so impudent as to _laugh_ at him.

            His glare is met by a scarred man standing roughly a half a head taller than him.  He has long brown hair, somehow managing to appear both spikey and soft, even as most of it’s tied back behind his head.  He’s wearing a green travelling cloak, well-worn though the color’s still visible.  The man takes a step forward, invading Rin’s space, and cocks one hand on his hip.

            “Your highness,” he greets, a half-smile on his lips that tells Rin the man thinks of the crown prince as no more threatening than a kitten.

            Rin meets his gaze, anger still tinting his cheeks, though embarrassment follows.  “And who are you?”  His voice is level, as he intended it to be.  He may be known for being quick to anger, a child in the form of a man, but he was still raised in the palace and he knows how to tell when he’s being tested.  Right now, this man is testing him, though he isn’t sure for what.

            “I am nothing more than a humble thief, your highness,” he gives a half bow of his head, mocking, before looking down at Rin again.  “Perhaps since I paid for your meal, you wouldn’t mind me joining you.”

            Rin opens his mouth, ready to retort to this man this – the thief gives that same half smile again, a smirk – _street dog_ , but there’s a clatter as a plate and mug appear on the table behind him.  “Your meal.”  He turns back to see the bartender giving him a blank stare.  The man looks up at the thief, a fleeting glance, before returning to his cleaning.

            He uses the distraction to his advantage, snagging up his bag over his shoulder.  He grabs his food and drink and heads to a table in the far corner, ignoring the thief and everyone else in the establishment.  Rin picks at the meal angrily.  It’s some kind of fish, likely from a nearby river or lake.  He can’t say he’s fond of fish, but he’s starving from the full day of travel, so he doesn’t have the strength in him to complain.

            “Is that a sapphire?”  There’s a scraping of a chair being pushed back, and Rin glares up to see the thief join him across the table with a drink of his own.  There’s a glint in his ear, a ruby of a deeper red than Rin’s own hair, and a cuff that might be copper above it, but otherwise he’s not wearing anything of value.

            Rin takes a drink from his own mug.  “Why?  Plan to steal it from me?”

            He hears a chuckle, same as before, and his cheeks redden again at the sound.  “I’m surprised you’re not concerned about poison.”

            Rin nearly spits his drink out.

            The look he gives the man is enough to draw out a full laugh this time, the sound settling low in the prince’s stomach.  “Relax, Haru would never poison anyone.  I was just curious how you can be so carefree.”

            He glares once more, but senses no lie in the thief’s words.  Besides, he’s still starving, so he goes back to his meal.  “Why are you talking to me?”

            “It’s not often the crown prince walks into a place like this.”  He leans across the table, clearly not understanding the concept of personal space.  Rin resists the urge to cut his throat with the butter knife.  “Your circlet is garnering a bit of attention.  If you’re not looking for an assassination attempt, I suggest you take it off and move on.”  The man’s voice is barely above a whisper, his lips close enough to Rin that his hair moves with each word.

            He’s frozen in place, no longer sure what game the thief is playing.  But he knows he’s at a disadvantage here; he doesn’t even know the man’s name.  “I don’t take advice from strangers.”  He whispers back, dismissing the thief with a wave of his hand as he returns to the meal.

            The man sits back but doesn’t leave.  There’s a pause where Rin thinks he might’ve finally scared him away, but when he speaks it’s another veiled challenge.  “Makoto.”

            Makoto.  He turns the name over in his mind, wondering if it’s real or a disguise, then if it even matters.  “And why should I trust you, Makoto?”

            “Because I saw which poster you took outside.”

* * *

 

            Haru the bartender shows him to a room upstairs where Rin can stay the night.  He hands him a key and tells him that breakfast is served downstairs no matter who he is and disappears, no doubt, to return to his cleaning.

            Rin isn’t surprised to see Makoto already in the room when he gets there, sitting on the bed as if he were the one who paid for it.  (He did.)

            “You’re more sheltered than I thought,” is the first thing the thief says after Rin closes the door behind him.  He sees the glint on the floor, the sword he recognizes as his own, and his eyes narrow.

            “You stole my sword.”

            Makoto chuckles.  “I’d hardly be a good thief if I showed you what I was taking from you.”

            “Or you’re cocky.”  Rin picks his sword up from the floor, examining it in the moonlight.  It’s the same as before, no visible signs of tampering.

            He hears the creak of the bed as the thief climbs out of it and resists the urge to flinch when he brushes past and lights a candle.  “Why are you looking for Iwatobi?”

            Rin meets his gaze unintentionally.  The candle casts shadows over Makoto’s skin, making the scars on his face seem larger.  There’s one over his left eye, a line that connects from top to bottom every time the thief blinks.  Another one on his upper lip, a sharp mark that ends suddenly below his nose.  He’s experienced, face a mask when he smiles, something Rin only notices now in the dim light.  It’s not all that different from the masks his father’s courtiers wear every day.

            They’re standing too close again, breath mixing in the space between them.  Outside of his family, only Sousuke has ever dared to get this close to him.  His heartrate picks up, grip on the sword tightens.  “Why do you want to know?”  He counters finally.

            “Most people’s eyes glance right over the poster.”  Makoto’s breath smells faintly of alcohol from the beer before, but everything from his stance to his gaze tells Rin he’s perfectly sober.  “I used to think they were ignoring it, writing off Iwatobi as a myth, nothing worth noting.”  The thief’s free hand, the one not holding the candle, darts between them.  Before Rin can shift or dispatch the man, he reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out the folded poster inside.  “After a while I thought it was the reward.  So low in comparison to the other quests that have come and gone.”  He unfolds it in the space between them, eyes finally leaving Rin’s.  The prince lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.  “Then I realized that it was simpler than that.  It wasn’t that no one was interested in the quest.  It was that they couldn’t see it.”

            The thief steps away, and Rin finally finds his voice again.  “What do you mean they couldn’t see it?”

            The paper is thrust at Rin, and the prince takes it, confused.  “Did you read the poster, or did your eyes pause on the name alone?”

            He doesn’t confess that the thief is right; that he has no idea what the quest is, he simply saw the name from a half-forgotten tale of his youth.  Rin looks down then, tearing his eyes away from the man in front of him to read the text under the title.  _Town under duress; help needed to lift the curse.  Reward: 1000 gold pieces.  Enquire within._

“Why are you telling me this?”

            He raises his eyes, meeting the thief’s again.  For a moment, he thinks the mask disappears but he blinks and it’s gone; a trick of the candlelight.  “Because aside from the bartender who hung this, you and I are the only ones who have been able to see it.”

            Rin has more questions than answers, but he hears a scuffle out in the hallway before he can ask them.

            “Ah…and there’s your assassination attempt.”  Makoto takes a few long strides to the window, looking out before glancing back at Rin.  “Ready to leave?”

            He doesn’t pause to think, just grabs his bag and looks out the window.  The bartender is down there waiting, his horse and another than must be Makoto’s saddled and ready to go.  Rin glances at the thief, a challenge, and jumps out the window as the men in the hallway start to beat down his door.

* * *

 

            Rin falters between trust and wariness as they travel.  Outwardly, Makoto is jovial.  He smiles easily and takes care of finding inns to stay at as they journey closer to the edge of Rin’s kingdom.  Following the thief’s advice, Rin removes his circlet, keeping it stuffed at the bottom of his bag along with his more ornate clothing.  Some of the innkeepers give him strange looks, seeing the unusual shade of his hair, but Makoto slips them a few more gold pieces for their discretion and they avoid any further assassination attempts.

            He earns fewer and fewer looks as they make their way across the kingdom, and by the time they reach the last border town – a place Rin recognizes only from the ledgers he reviews – Makoto doesn’t have to slip any extra coins.  It’s the first time since Haru’s inn where they eat in the common room with everyone else.

            It’s a rougher crowd, what he’d expected to see that first night, rowdy and disorganized.  Makoto leads him, weaving their way over beer stained floors to the back table.  The thief takes both their bags and hooks them over his shoulder.  “I’m going to get us a room.  Stay put.”

            It’s boring down here without Makoto.  The prince had grown used to his presence, or at least a companion to talk to.  The servers – busty women as he’d imagined – don’t even seem to notice him over the commotion the other tables cause.  There’s an especially loud cheer from the table at the center, causing Rin to massage his temples.  He’s going to get a headache if they don’t eat soon.

            He hears the scrape of the chair across from him being pushed back and looks up, expecting to see the thief return.  His eyes meet golden ones instead, paired with a smile that’s positively feral.

            “Not often I meet someone with hair like mine,” the stranger opens.  His hands card through his locks to demonstrate, Rin’s eyes tracking the movement.  It’s more orange than the deep red of his, but the statement is close enough.  In their travels they hadn’t encountered anyone else with such a unique color.

            Rin sighs and looks away towards the bar.  He could use a drink.  “Do you want a reward for it or something?”

            Nonplussed, the man laughs.  It’s whole and hearty, different from the knowing chuckle he’s grown so used to hearing.  “Feisty!  I like that.”  The man bangs his elbow on the table, hand extended.  Rin raises his eyebrow at him, not impressed.  “How about a little wager?  I win and you join us for a drink.”  With his other hand he thumbs back to the table he came from.  Unsurprisingly, the loud center table has their eyes on the exchange.

            “And if I win?”  Rin asks, weighing his options.  The man seems harmless enough, but their conversation is drawing attention.

            The man laughs again.  “Well then I’ll tell you how to get that drink you’re obviously craving!”  He looks the prince straight in the eye, challenge glinting.  “So?  What do you say?”

            Rin’s never been able to turn down a challenge, no matter how ridiculous, so he slams his own elbow on the table, grasping the man’s hand in his own.  “You’re on.”

            The competition draws attention, especially when Rin doesn’t go down immediately.  The crowd moves to surround them, cheering loudly and placing obnoxious bets that the prince half hears.  The man is frowning, clearly finding Rin a more difficult opponent than he’d expected, but a bead of sweat is dripping down the back of the prince’s neck as well.

            He hears something of a scuffle, and nearly loses his concentration when looks up to see Makoto push himself to the front of the gathered crowd.  His expression is different than the usual mask, but it relaxes minutely when he sees the prince, and Rin focuses again on his opponent.  The man’s strong, but he’s also had far more to drink than Rin.  He feels the moment his opponent falters and locks eyes with Makoto.  He smirks, a wordless communication that he’s won, and slams the man’s hand down on the table.

            There’s a mild commotion as people win and lose their bets, and for a moment Rin swears he sees Makoto give his first true smile.  He doesn’t have a chance to verify it, because the crowd swallows him as the group from the center table surges forward.

            They end up drinking with the man and his friends anyway.  It’s louder than before, and Rin’s nothing but grateful when the bar maid pushes through and gives him and Makoto plates of food.  It’s all paid for by the man, who introduces himself as Seijuro, and his friends.  Even Makoto’s.  He’s well-liked from the moment he introduces himself, as usual.

            “Are you travelers?”  Rin asks them after he’s eaten his fill and is on his second – or third? – drink.

            Seijuro waves his hand back and forth.  “Nah.  We’re the town protectors.”

            “Protectors?  From what, bandits?”

            He laughs, loud and uninhibited, something Rin’s never been able to do.  “Only sometimes.  No, these are borderlands, Sousuke.”  He throws his arm around the prince’s shoulder, clearly oblivious to who he really is.  “We protect the kingdom from the beasts in the forest.”

            Rin must still look confused, because Makoto interjects.  “He means faeries.  Nymphs.  Unicorns.”

            “And others,” Seijuro nods.  “King’s protection weakens here on the border.”

            Ah, his teacher _had_ mentioned something to that effect in one of his many lessons.  “The border isn’t a line, but more of a fade,” he recites from memory.

            “That’s a more poetic way of putting it than what I’d call it.  I’d call it a damn shitshow.”  Seijuro finishes his mug and lifts his arm off Rin’s shoulder, waving for another.

            “What about the King’s Guard?”  Rin pushes.  This town is on their ledger; that means there are soldier’s stationed here.

            “Ah you’re looking at one!  Well, three I guess.”  Seijuro gestures to a few of the men who are gathered around some others competing in what looks like a drinking game.

            Rin frowns, glancing at Makoto’s thoughtful expression before looking back to the apparent soldier.  “There are only three of you?”

            Seijuro laughs, undisturbed.  “We’re not a very wealthy town, so the crown only gives us a few.  It’s ok, though we make due.”  He gestures to the others, nearly knocking his new drink out of the bar maid’s hand as she delivers it.  “We hired a few extra hands to help out.”

            The soldier clearly has nothing more to say about that, grabbing his drink and making his way over to the drinking competition, pushing his way in.  He’s still frowning when Makoto rests his hand on Rin’s shoulder.  “We should head up.  We’ll need to head out early in the morning.”  The mask is back over his face, half smile unreadable, but Rin follows him out and up anyway.

            They share a room as always, but Makoto takes the floor every time.  _I’m used to sleeping on the ground_ , he’d said the first time, and Rin had never questioned it.  They get ready for bed, backs turned towards each other, and Makoto doesn’t blockade the door this time like he had in the past.  He must have gotten the same feeling from the men downstairs that Rin had.

            It’s dark, moonlight through the window the only light in the room, when the thief breaks the silence.  “I didn’t know you could arm wrestle.”

            Rin smirks at the ceiling, even though Makoto can’t see.  “You don’t think that sword is just for show, do you?”

            The soft laughter that answers is the most natural he’s heard from the thief.

* * *

 

            “How do you know the way to Iwatobi?”

            He asks in the dark of their first night outside the kingdom.  The two of them are completely alone; they even left their horses in Seijuro’s care in the border town.  They’re camped off the road, but in sight of it.  _If even a tree blocks our view, we’ll never get back_ , Makoto had told him before setting out the bedroll for Rin.  They hadn’t made a fire either; eating dried meats from the border town instead.

            Silence surrounds the two of them completely in a way it never has in the forests within the kingdom.  There’s no breeze, no sound of animals making their way through the undergrowth.  Rin’s read about magic, knows it exists even within the kingdom, but here he can feel it around him, buzzing against his skin.

            “A thief never reveals his sources.”  The answer comes out as a whisper.  If the forest had any sounds at all, it would’ve covered the words completely.

            Rin grumbles.  Makoto is as slippery as ever, despite in the weeks it took them to get here.  “A good thief would never reveal he _had_ sources in the first place,” he retorts, just to hear Makoto laugh.

            He’s rewarded with one, but it comes out forced even to his ears.

* * *

 

            The first few days in the forest pass without incident.  If it weren’t for the magic tickling goosebumps on his skin, Rin would’ve thought the stories were all nonsense.  They fall into a different rhythm than the one in the kingdom, heading out at the break of dawn and heading south along the path until dusk, when Makoto pulls them off the path and sets up a camp with no cover for fear of losing their way.  They eat food the thief has rationed for them, having gathered it sometime back when Rin didn’t notice.

            On the fourth day, they come across a spring.  The water is clear, the brook leading into it bubbles with a near musical quality, and Rin is suddenly aware of how disgusting he is.  The border town’s inn had lacked a bath, something Rin had thought nothing of at the time, but the sight of the spring has him painfully aware of how long it’s been since he bathed.

            “I need to clean off.”  He stops and strips down before the thief can answer.

            After he slips into the pool, mercifully warmer than first glance, he sighs in relief and looks up at the thief.  Makoto’s eyes are darting around, as if expecting a minotaur to jump out and attack them.  Ridiculous; this is the safest place in the whole damn forest.  Possibly even safer than the kingdom itself.

            “We should keep moving,” Makoto instructs, still looking around for danger.

            Rin sighs and sinks deeper into the water.  “Relax, Makoto.  I’m just trying to get clean.”  He waves his hand lazily.  “You should join me.”

            “Rin.”  The tone from the thief is laced with clear exasperation, his mask slipping since their entrance into the woods.  Rin laughs uninhibited.  He feels lighter than he has in a long time, since he was a child.  The forest around him is a deep shade of green, the exact shade of Makoto’s eyes.  It’s warm in the spring, and he never wants to leave this place.

            He lets himself fall deeper into the pool, water up to his chin, and closes his eyes, relishing the feeling.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before,” he declares, voice a murmur.  “You really should join me,” Rin adds, releasing himself fully to the water, slipping completely under.

            “Rin!”  The shout is muffled, outside his pool, but something in the tone draws his eyes open.  At first he looks around, seeing only the plants around him, lazily swishing in the current the brook pushes through.  “Rin!”  The shout is closer, less muffled, drawing irritation into the prince.  It came from above.  He looks up, sees a hazy outline of a face.  Oh…right.  Makoto.

            He waves his arm under the water, lazily encouraging the thief to join him inside.  Ah, what a pain.  His eyes drift shut again, only to be opened again when a splash accompanies the third shout of “Rin!”

            The prince is irritated.  Really, he wants to relax, can’t Makoto tell?  Who is he to disturb his peace?  But the irritation breaks something through him, and when he looks at the plants, they _twist_ and he sees thorns where there weren’t any before.  Eyes where nothing but bubbles had existed.

            And the sudden realization that he can’t breathe.

            He struggles in earnest then, fear overcoming the happy haze that had covered him before.  The surface should be right above him, but as Rin tries to get there, something wraps around his leg.  He looks down to see one of the thorned plants digging into his ankle and screams, letting out the rest of his air in a stream of bubbles that gain eyes as they move.

            His hands reach up, up to the air above, but he hits resistance.  A thick film where there was no barrier before.  Rin’s vision goes black at the edges, fading towards the middle.  He’s going to die like this, all because he wanted a bath.  Gou will have to take the crown; he’s not as strong as Sousuke had thought.

            He’s never going to see Makoto’s face light up in an honest smile again.

            The plant’s grip on his ankle loosens minutely, and he kicks it off at the same time fingers wrap around his wrist.  There’s a tug as he’s pulled up and out of the spring so sharply he nearly takes flight.

            Rin collapses on top of Makoto, coughing the water from his lungs and choking down air.  Sweet air, he’ll never wish for anything else.  It takes him a moment to register the calming sounds Makoto’s murmuring, accompanied by the hand patting his back.  His breathing slows down as he sucks in the air with less desperation and registers his surroundings.

            They’re in an enchanted forest, hunting for a mythological town that’s under a curse.  A magical pool just tried to kill him for taking a bath in it.  And…he’s completely naked.

            The last fact is accompanied with the realization that he’s not only naked, he’s also _lying on top of Makoto_.

            Rin scrambles up as fast as possible, face no doubt matching the color of his hair.  He keeps a healthy distance from the pool as he grabs his clothes and dresses himself, back to Makoto.  The thief gives him some privacy but squeezes his shoulder once he’s clothed again.  Wordlessly, they make their way back to the path and continue south.

* * *

 

            “We’re going in circles!”  Rin exclaims, not for the first time.

            Makoto presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, mask dropped as irritation shows clear as day on his face.  “There are a lot of flowers that look similar, Rin.  This is a forest.”

            They’ve been arguing about this for over an hour, enough time that the sun is already starting to set.  “I _know_ where we are Makoto.  Contrary to what you think, I’m not an idiot.”

            “Then why are you insisting _that_ –“ the thief gestures to a blue flower, growing out from the roots of the tree in front of them “ – is the exact same flower we’ve seen three times now?”

            Rin sighs.  He’s sick of going over this.  Makoto is _wrong_ , and they’re wasting time because of it.  He’s peeked into their bags; he knows how low their provisions are.  “Because it _is_.  Dammit, just listen to me!”

            “I’m not going to listen to you.”

            Stubborn.  The thief acts as if he’s superior to Rin, as if he’s incapable of having a single fault.  “Why not?”

            “Because you’re telling us to go off the path!”

            It’s the first time Makoto’s raised his voice since they’ve started traveling together, and that’s the only reason Rin doesn’t retort.  He stares at the thief, mouth half open, and blinks once, twice, thrice.

            Makoto lets out a sigh, fight leaving his shoulders.  “How do you think we should get out of this mess then?”

            Rin closes his mouth, suddenly dry.  He swallows, licks his lips, and tries again, keeping the anger out of his voice this time.  “I think it’s pointing to the right of the tree for a reason.”  He has no explanation other than that.  Dusk is upon them; they need to get off the trail.

            Expressions cross uninhibited over Makoto’s face.  Rin’s forcibly reminded of his mistake at the spring, and he wonders if that’s where the thief’s mind is too.  This is different, he tells himself.  This time _Makoto_ is the one being tricked by the forest.

            Finally Makoto tips his head, conceding.  “Ok.  If it’s wrong, we’ll still be in sight of the road to make camp.”

            Rin isn’t wrong.

* * *

 

            Sometime into the second week wandering in the forest, they run out of provisions.  They’re stopped for lunch when it happens.  Rin finds a nice seat on an upended tree, sinking down with a groan.  “We walked for longer this morning,” he observes, slipping off his boot to massage his foot.

            Makoto drops the pack in his hands.  When Rin looks up, his eyes are wide.  “Makoto?”  He’s over there in a second, afraid something grabbed him, the way the plant had grabbed him under the water.  There are still marks on his ankle from that; he’s sure it’ll scar.

            But the thief shakes his head as he delivers the bad news.  “We don’t have any food.”

            They can’t eat anything in the forest.  It’s a rule in every bedtime story, every warning Seijuro had given, the lessons Rin had taken in the palace.

            “How close are we?”  He asks, wondering how many days it’ll take before the starvation sets in.  Before they have to decide between staying in the forest forever or forfeiting their lives.

            Makoto looks at him, eyes raw, jaw set, and Rin realizes the truth.

            He backs away as if stung, back to his boot, his own pack filled with nothing but clothes and his crown.  Militarily, he laces up his shoe and stands, pack secure on his back.  The prince says nothing to Makoto but continues, dutifully, heading south.

* * *

 

            They don’t even make it to nightfall that day.  Rin marches on, his footsteps echoed by Makoto behind him, but they don’t exchange any words.  Just to be contrary, Rin takes out his circlet and lays it across his brow again.  If he’s going to die here, he’s going to die as the crown prince and not some nobody with red hair.

            A few hours into their silent march, as the sun approaches its final descent, it happens.  Makoto’s gasp behind him brings Rin’s attention up from the forest floor.  Nothing looks different than any other part of the forest, a statement he has readied on his lips as he turns to his travel companion, when they’re dipped into darkness.

            Rin reaches out blindly, fingers slamming into the thief’s as he does the same.  The argument from before fades to the back of his mind as he clutches Makoto.  He can see their hands where they meet, and on impulse he steps closer.  Makoto gasps again, but this time Rin sees it.  They’re nearly nose to nose, but he can see the thief.  It’s all he can see, everything around them is covered in darkness, and his mind jumps around crazily for an explanation.

            This time if he dies the view is a good one.

            Light flashes back into their world so suddenly Rin closes his eyes from the force of it.  When he opens them, adjusted, they’re standing in the middle of a small town.  It’s abandoned, and he doesn’t recognize it from any of his travels, but Makoto’s eyes widen and the thief spins around and out of Rin’s grasp.

            “Papa!”  The shout comes from the thief, pure agony, and he’s tearing away, down the streets and out of Rin’s sight.

            The prince’s heart leaps out of his chest, following Makoto, and he’s off like a shot, following.  Makoto isn’t around the first corner, the one Rin could swear he saw him disappear down.  He swears.  How fast can the guy be on an empty stomach?

            But he’s not around the next corner either.  Or the one after that.  Running out of options, Rin slams open the nearest door, expecting dust or maybe footprints showing him that Makoto really had come this way.  What he sees is…not that.

            The air is suspended in the house, not a single particle of dust moves even where he slammed the door open.  Wariness surrounds him, especially after the incident at the pool, but he steps inside anyway.  Every hair on his body stands on end.  This place holds magic, more than the rest of the forest they’d seen.

            He’s initially so distracted by the feeling of magic he doesn’t notice the discrepancy in light from outside.  It’s dusk, but here the light streaming in reminds him of noon.  It makes the air glitter with unmoving dust particles, not even drifting with Rin’s breathing.  He takes two steps inside, looking into the adjoining room.

            A dining table and chairs, the room is a kitchen and eating area combined.  And there, at the table, are people.  They aren’t statues, not quite.  They’re people, frozen in place.  Rin walks in, nerves on high alert, curiosity getting the better of him.  He waves a hand in front of the man’s face, but the man doesn’t blink.  He’s shiny, appearance as if covered in slime, but when Rin touches him, he just feels cold.

            “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

            He jumps at the voice behind him, not having heard anyone follow him in.  When he turns around, he sees a woman standing there.  She’s beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.  A shiver runs down his spine.

            Her eyes glance over his appearance, from the crown resting on his forehead to his hair and down his clothes.  She doesn’t say anything, but somehow he thinks she knows exactly who he is.  When she smiles at him, he takes a step back, knuckles white around the handle of his sword.

            “Crown Prince Rin Matsuoka,” she greets, confirming his suspicions.  “What an honor.  I’ve never had a prince before.”  Her tongue darts out at that, licking her lower lip.  He doesn’t recognize her at all.  Her attributes aren’t unique in and of themselves.  Her hair is brown and long, a matching color to her eyes.  He’s seen that color plenty of times on plenty of women.  But the way she wears it is striking in a way he’s never seen before.

            As if sensing his thoughts, she speaks again.  “I’m the Witch Miho.  This is my town.”

            Rin finally manages to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.  “This is…Iwatobi?”

            She drops her head back and laughs at him, the sound echoing even in his bones.  “Of course it is.  Where did you think you were traveling?”

            Traveling…that’s right.  He was looking for Makoto.  “Where’s Makoto?”

            Her eyes glint as she lowers her chin.  In the light, they flash red.  “I’m afraid I’m keeping him here with me.”

            The witch doesn’t take a step towards him, but the walls are getting closer regardless.  He needs to get out before he’s trapped.  She opens her mouth to say something else, but Rin turns and sprints out the side door, using his sword to cut it open.

            He feels her laughter behind him, echoing against the walls as the light grows darker and darker around him.  His feet fly across the pavement as he turns around and around the town.  “Makoto!”  He shouts, taking another left.  “Makoto!”  He turns again and finds himself in front of a house he recognizes.

            Rin skids to a halt, breathing hard.  He looks around, left and right, but all the houses are the _same_.  Not similar.  They’re the same house.  He’s trapped in a circle again.  Her laughter is getting closer, the houses growing closer together when he sees it.  A blue flower growing out of the base of the one in front of him.  It’s pointed to the right, same as the one in the woods.  There’s hardly any space between the houses now, but he has to try.  He closes his eyes, sword in front of him as he bursts through them with a cry.

            When he opens his eyes, he’s on a new street with only one path in front of him to choose from.  It leads directly up the hill to the place he knows, somehow, Makoto is.

            Rin races the last rays of sunlight to the top, throwing open the front door and racing inside before the shadows can catch him.  He slams the door shut behind him, hands braced on his knees as he pants, catching his breath.  When he looks up, the house is the same as the first.  It’s dark outside, past nightfall, but in here the sun streaming in is as bright as noon.

            He ignores the glitter of frozen dust, walking into the house with his sword held before him.  There’s no sign of anyone here, but he checks anyway, going into the next room.

            His sword clatters to the floor.

            “Makoto!”  Rin races forward, seeing the thief frozen with the same shine.  He’s standing at the kitchen counter, reaching as if to grab a plate handed to him by an older woman.  At the table are two frozen children and a frozen man, as old as Rin’s father.

            He ignores all of them except the thief, racing forward to him.  He’s cold like the first one, no sign of the man he’d travelled with.  Rin touches his face anyway, wanting to force it to look at him, but lacking the strength to try.  “Makoto…”  He breathes, dropping his forehead to the frozen shoulder.

            “He can’t hear you.”

            He jumps again, turning protectively in front of the thief.  He points his hand towards her, belatedly realizing his sword lies at her feet.  “What did you do to him?”

            She _shifts_ and then she’s there, his sword gripped lazily in her hand as she reaches out and strokes the thief’s cheek.  Rin swipes at her, but she shifts again, gone to the corner of the kitchen.  “I simply returned him to his original state.”

            “Original…?”

            She tuts, examining the nails in her free hand.  “Really, you are dense aren’t you?”  She lowers it with a shrug.  “It is a shame I had to give him those scars though.  And his hair is too long.  Should I shorten it?”

            “Don’t touch his hair!”  Rin shouts, throwing his arm in front of Makoto.  He won’t let her touch him, even if his life is forfeit for it.

            For a moment, the air around him shimmers.

            Miho’s face twists, her teeth flashing when she speaks.  “You idiot prince, what are you doing?”

            He has no defense against her, no protection for himself or the thief, but he doesn’t move from where he’s standing so close to Makoto he’s brushing the frozen figure.  The walls get closer, the light dimming different than when the sun sets.

            “I won’t let you touch him!”  He shouts, surprised at how steady his voice is.

            The walls pulse once, moving outward, and the lights brighten.  This time when her eyes flash red, they stay that way.  She screeches once and runs at him, brandishing his own sword at him.  He’s exhausted from traveling, hasn’t eaten since the morning, and he has nothing to protect him.  Rin closes his eyes, drops his head, and waits for the end to come.

            But it doesn’t.

            He hears a crash and a scream, and when he opens his eyes, the witch is standing there swordless.  She’s clutching her hand, palm red and steaming.  His sword is halfway across the room, but the blade is shattered to bits.  There’s a pulsing heat on his forehead, and Rin raises his hand, touching the jewel of his circlet there.  It’s hot to the touch, but it doesn’t burn him.

            _The king’s protection_.  He’s the crown prince of his kingdom.  This circlet has never been just for show, he realizes.  It’s nothing to the protection he can give as king, but it’s enough to protect one person.

            And it can hurt her.

            He realizes it at the same moment she seems to.  With a shout that tastes of victory, he rushes her, head lowered like a bull charging.  She lets out a cry and dodges at the last second, disappearing.  He slides to a halt before he hits the wall and looks around for her again.

            She disappears again, but he has her.  She’s not leaving this house alive.

            Their game only lasts one more round before she tilts the board in her favor.  She reappears in front of Makoto’s frozen form.  Her smile is warped; using her magic this much is taking off whatever spell she has on her own body.  She looks less beautiful than she had before.

            Her fingers stretch out to the thief, endgame.  “Should I kill him like this?  Or should I wake him up first?”  The shine disappears from Makoto’s body, color returning to normal.

            No.  He’s too far.

            Rin starts running at the same time Makoto stirs, awakening from her spell.  He still has half the room to cover; he’s not going to make it in time.

            The hilt of his sword is in her hand again, enough of a shard left to pierce the thief to his heart.  Rin’s running as fast as he can, but the room is getting bigger, he has further to go.  Desperation claws at his throat as green eyes unfreeze and Makoto’s head turns to him.  “Rin?”

            He tears the circlet off his head and throws it, willing it to make the impossible distance.  “Makoto!”

            Miho reaches for it as Makoto does, victory in her eyes.  Don’t let her get it, he begs helplessly.  The air _shifts_ taking the circlet with it, and the sapphire lands safely in Makoto’s hand.

            Her face isn’t so beautiful anymore when she screeches.  She resembles a banshee more than a human at this point, and when she turns to Rin, he can see through the hollow of her cheek.  She pulls her disappearing act as the prince sighs in relief.  Makoto’s safe.

            Rin blinks, and suddenly she’s _there_.  “Consolation prize,” she snarls, the only warning he gets before she buries what remains of his own sword deep into his stomach.

            “Rin!”  Makoto’s shout is the last thing he sees before blackness consumes him.

* * *

 

            A breeze passes over his nose, waking him up.  He opens his eyes to sunlight streaming through the window, a breeze blowing the curtains lazily.  He goes to sit up, but a sharp pain in his stomach doesn’t let him do more than let out a grunt and fall back against the pillows.

            The door slams open.  “Rin?!”

            Green eyes meet his.  “Makoto.”  His voice comes out hoarse from disuse, followed by a cough.  The thief is there in a heartbeat, sitting on a stool beside the bed that Rin just now notices.  “What happened?”  He asks, even as the other man helps him into a seated position.

            “Here, drink.”  The thief doesn’t answer, handing a glass to him instead.  Rin drains the entire thing in on gulp, cool liquid a relief as it drains down his throat.  “What’s the last thing you remember?”  Makoto takes away the glass, setting it on the bedside table.

            Rin wracks his memory, images coming to him in flashes.  A beautiful woman, a frozen town and…

            His hands dart out and snatch Makoto’s before the thief can move.  “You’re alive.  How?”

            Makoto nods to the table.  The circlet, crown of the first born prince, is lying there undamaged.  Rin releases his hands and grabs the crown instead.  It’s light, exactly as he remembers, but his fingers tingle where they grasp it in a way he’d never noticed before.

            “And the witch?”

            The thief isn’t looking at him, fist clenched on the sheets instead.  “I did what I could.  Her magic is weak, but she was able to get away.”  His gaze, when he turns to Rin, refuses to be released.  “I’ll hunt her to the end of my days if I have to.”

            Rin pictures her smile, the hollow of her cheek, the way his thoughts broke through her magic so easily.  “I don’t think you need to.”

            “But she hurt you –“

            Makoto cuts himself off, breaking his gaze.  Rin’s heart stutters.  He reaches out, brushing his thumb over the thief’s knuckles.  “And here I thought my feelings weren’t returned.”

            Wide eyes meet his own this time.  Rin returns the shock with a smirk, though it’s laced with a softness that takes the edge off.  “Rin…”

            “I think I really might die if you don’t kiss me right now.”

            Makoto’s lips twitch upwards, no mask disguising the smile there.  Aha, Rin thinks as he closes his eyes and the thief cups his cheek, I finally got him to smile.

* * *

 

            It takes a week for his wound to heal to the point he can walk without Makoto’s support.  He uses it anyway.

            Another two weeks pass before Makoto’s mother, the healer of Iwatobi, grants him permission to travel.  The entire town turns out to wish the crown prince farewell.  He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to go back and become a man while Makoto stays behind, but the thief is standing there with both of their packs and a fresh travel cloak.

            He’s disoriented when they leave.  They’re no longer inside the forest; apparently taking away the witch’s magic had returned Iwatobi to its rightful place inside the border of his own kingdom.  He frowns at the path as they leave, only to be laughed at by Makoto.

            “Relax, Rin.  I know the way.”

            They go back to Seijuro’s border town first, agreeing that they’re sick of travelling on foot.  The inn explodes when they see Rin appear, everyone scrambling around.  At first, he’s confused, but then Makoto points to his forehead where his circlet lay.  Ever since he’d woken up, he refused to take it off.

            “You – you’re the prince?!”  Seijuro declares for the hundredth time that night, even as the bar maids clean up and half the town snores in their drunken stupor.

            Rin laughs, resting his hand on the soldier’s shoulder.  “Still hasn’t changed.  And I swear to you, on my life, I will send more soldiers to help you protect this town.”

            Seijuro splutters, the same as he had each time Rin had made the promise.  It takes the soldier one more drink before he’s passed out, same as the others.

            “You made the same promise to Iwatobi,” Makoto observes as they walk upstairs to their room.  One room, one bed.

            Rin changes, back turned to the thief same as before.  “I intend to keep it.  Why do the lords in the inner lands need so many when these towns have so few?”

            “Maybe they’re afraid of an uprising.”

            The prince scoffs, climbing into the bed.  “Then they should treat their people better.”  He scoots closer to the window, leaving an obvious opening for the thief.  “Don’t sleep on the floor tonight.”

            For a moment, he thinks Makoto might argue, but his eyes soften as he blows out the candle.  Rin shifts, giving him room to climb in and adjust.  He lays on his side, arm across the thief’s chest to keep him from leaving.  They slept like this in Iwatobi too.  Sometimes Rin would jerk awake from a nightmare, the witch freezing Makoto again, and only the sight and feel of the thief’s chest rising and falling would ease him back to sleep.

            “How long were you under that spell?”

            Makoto turns his head, pressing his lips into Rin’s hair, an unmistakable kiss.  The crown is laying on the table, within Makoto’s reach if necessary.  “I don’t know.  It doesn’t matter.”  He strokes Rin’s stomach as he says it, pressing his palm to the scar from where she’d stabbed him.

            “No, I suppose it doesn’t,” he agrees, same as every night.

* * *

 

            His father holds a three day feast in celebration of his _becoming a man_ when he returns.  Rumors of a town appearing on the border had reached the capital before Rin and Makoto had, turning to fact as each story confirmed the next.  The crown prince had single handedly – not true – brought back a town from myth.

            “My son, the true heir to the throne,” the king had toasted.

            Gou had run to him when he first returned, embracing her with all her strength.  “Don’t ever leave again,” she scolded, face pressed to his chest.  “I never want to rule.”

            Makoto is seated with the guests of honor each night, alongside Sousuke and Haru and a few others invited from Iwatobi.  Rin doesn’t ask how they were able to get back so fast.  They sneak away each night, as the feast reaches its peak and everyone forgets what they’re celebrating.

            Rin leads him to the gardens, and they wander through with their fingers threaded together, shoulders bumping with every step until one of them loses their patience.  They kiss on his balcony, Rin pressed to the edge as Makoto chases each coupling of their lips with one deeper and longer than the last.  When they can’t stand it anymore, Rin takes him to his room, and they shake his bed until the first rays of dawn shine on their bodies.

            He cards his fingers through Makoto’s hair the fourth morning, after the last feast.  They’ve been up and down all night, and Rin has no intention of leaving his bed anytime soon.  “I’ll be heading back to Iwatobi soon,” Makoto tells him, eyes sharp with intention.

            Rin’s heart sinks down to his scar.  “I don’t want that.”

            “I was the guest for the banquet.  If I stay by the crown prince now, rumors will start."

            He’d had no intention of getting up yet, but the words stir a new restlessness in him.  Rin pushes himself out of bed and forces clothes onto his body.  He can sense confusion in the thief, but Makoto copies his moves and follows him, pausing only to grab the crown that he passes to Rin.

            He bursts into his parents’ room before the servants can announce him, ignoring their insistence that the king is asleep.  They’re awake almost immediately, his father looking ready for a fight, while his mother glares at him through her lashes in a look Gou inherited.

            “Father, you said I was a man the moment I came back from my quest.”

            The king has a mess of bed hair and eyes of confusion, his hand still gripping the knife he’d grabbed at Rin’s entrance.  He lowers it, glancing between Rin and the door.  “Yes…”

            “Then I want him to stay.”  Rin points at where Makoto’s standing, just inside the doorway.

            His father smiles, knowingly and soft.  “You’ll need to take responsibility for that as both man and king.”

            Rin turns, his eyes meeting Makoto’s.  The thief is wearing a thin enough shirt that Rin can track the rise and fall of his chest from here, calming his pulse and strengthening his resolve.  There will be an announcement later today, wedding preparations after that.  They haven’t talked about it, but he can sense it in every fiber of his being; Makoto wants this too.

            He smiles, expression mirrored on Makoto.  “I think I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> In my head I named Haru's tavern "Free! Drinks (Everything's 1 Gold)"


End file.
